(Today)

Mark Luyten

Today: the boundary between yesterday and tomorrow, between past and future, the neither tangible nor measurable transition between both endless worlds in which life proceeds. Always present in the various shapes of the consecutive days: one today yields only for another. Again and again referring to the ever-changing present and folding to the variable circumstances of the new moment until I no longer say it. As a shifter traveling through time, mutable like the old Proteus.

Today is also the only point in time in which I am physically present: in its presence more ‘real’ than a time that can only survive as a memory or projection onto the future. Like an index, very close to a fragile reality.

A hole in a photograph, a cut in an image. My eyes are constantly torn between image and support. Discomforting situation: a photograph usually serves as a replica of the world, or at least pretends to be. I like to play along with this game of representations, even though I know that not everything I see is true. The incision is thus severely disturbing. Revealing that this is indeed only an image, it takes me right back to the here and now of seeing. Between here and there, reality and fiction, somewhere and nowhere.

September 8 – October 22, 2011